Page 78 of Winter’s Fire

As the ship sailed for Florida, Lucy kept a low profile. Sam ran interference for her so she didn’t have to see Logan and Diana together. When the warship docked in Miami, a representative from the office of the British Consulate General was waiting for them, with fresh clothing, emergency travel documents and hotel reservations. In due course, they’d be put on flights back to London.

On arriving in her room at the hotel, Lucy put out the “Do Not Disturb” sign before lying down on the bed, too tired and too sick at heart to take much notice of her luxurious surroundings. All she wanted to do was sleep and forget, and then go home—not to her little apartment in London, but to the farm and her family.

Sam had been her rock on the way to Florida, from where he was due to fly home once his duties during the goodwill visit were complete. It was unlikely she’d be done with the authorities in time to fly with him.

Such a mess. Unable to find any peace, Lucy sought solace from the view from her window. The lights of Miami by night were a kaleidoscope of colour. Out there, people would be having a great time, completely oblivious to the kind of horror that had taken over her life and Logan’s and Diana’s.

A horror that was now over—not just for them, but for the other women, too. The details were few, but as a result of an existing investigation by US authorities, a task force had mounted an assault on the island, freed the women and arrested the perpetrators. Sasha’s friend had been rescued, but sadly, there was no trace of her Dom.

Lucy sighed. Her resistance was low and all she could think of was how much she needed Logan to wrap his arms around her and tell her everything would be okay. Except that Logan didn’t exist. He was an illusion, a disguise to conceal the real Logan until he’d been able to resume his relationship with Diana.

Bile burned her throat. Logan and Diana together. Even as a memory, the contrast between his darkness and her glacial blonde beauty struck like a dagger. All cleaned up, they’d made a striking couple. They were probably together right now sharing a room somewhere in the hotel… sharing a bed.

She had to stop tormenting herself like that or she’d be eaten up inside. She couldn’t allow the way this had turned out to make her bitter and cynical, either. Right now it hurt like hell, but logically, Lucy knew it wouldn’t always be this way. Logically, there’d be a time when she could think of Logan without this overwhelming sense of loss, if she thought about him at all by then.

Before anything, though, she had to get through tomorrow, when she was going to make a statement to the US authorities. The representative from the Consulate General had told her she wouldn’t have to do it alone, but it was still a daunting prospect.

All she wanted was to go home.

~~*~~

Once their statements had been taken, a chauffeur-driven limousine took them to the airport. During the journey, Lucy kept herself to herself. Not that she had much choice even if she hadn’t wanted to with Diana claiming her rightful place—as she saw it—as the centre of attention.

At check-in, Logan took care of the details, with Diana clinging to his arm like a human limpet. A few steps behind them, Lucy allowed herself one last, indulgent, long, cool drink of Logan. Cleaned up and patched up though he was, he still showed signs of his ordeal, but he was a sight for sore eyes nonetheless.

It also gave her a chance to say a silent goodbye, especially when Diana staked her claim in the seating arrangements.

The business class section was arranged two abreast. Left on her own, Lucy chose the one remaining window seat, three rows back and on the opposite side of the plane from Logan and Diana.

One last implement of torture remained, and that was the executive lounge. With one eye on Logan and Diana, she drifted towards the windows, with their panoramic view of the runway, using the view as an excuse to avoid sharing a table with them.

“How are you doing?”

Logan’s quiet question was as unsettling as the electricity that crackled from the light touch of his hand on her arm. Why hadn’t he carried on following Diana?

“I’m fine, thanks.” The response was bland and automatic. “Just thought I’d watch the planes for a while.”

“Can I get you something to drink? Something to eat, maybe?”

She shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry. You’d better get back to Diana.” With the last of her courage, Lucy looked squarely at the man she loved. “I can take care of myself.”

He looked as if he were about to say something, but whatever it was, it remained unsaid—Diana called his name, and Lucy took that as her cue to turn back to the window. What she didn’t see couldn’t hurt her.

Before long, their flight was called for boarding. Lucy made her way to her allocated seat, and found herself next to an American businessman. They exchanged meaningless pleasantries, and she settled in for the duration.

While the remaining passengers boarded, she stared sightlessly out of the window. If she filled her mind with blank space, there’d be no room for the might-have-beens and if-onlys. She tried not to ask whether it would have made any difference to the outcome had she told Logan how she felt—Logan and Diana had history, and that was too great an obstacle for Lucy to overcome alone.

Once they were airborne and the seatbelt light had been switched off, Lucy dug out the blanket provided by the airline. For once, she was going to do her damnedest to sleep on an overnight flight. The more time she spent comatose, the better. She adjusted her seat to a semi-reclining position, angled herself towards the window, closed her eyes, and prayed for dreamless oblivion.

Almost immediately, rustling sounds behind her told her that her seat companion was on the move. He’d been fidgety during take-off, so it was no surprise he hadn’t settled immediately. They’d be serving dinner soon as well, but in truth, Lucy had no real appetite. Despite the dietary deprivations while in captivity, missing a meal now wouldn’t kill her.

More quiet rustling told her that her fellow passenger had returned… except, this time, the presence she sensed was different. And then she smelled it, the subtle, fresh scent of the aftershave Logan favoured. What was he doing here?

“Lucy?”

His voice was so low that, had she really been asleep, she doubted he would have woken her. Hardly daring to breathe, she waited, wondering what he’d say next, if he’d assume she was asleep and try to wake her, but all he did was drape the blanket over her bare shoulder, before leaving as unobtrusively as he’d arrived.

Lucy huddled more deeply under the soft material, clutching it to her in an attempt to assuage the aching in her heart. She wanted to cry, but the pain was too raw, too deep. A lingering flicker of rebellion urged her not to give up, to fight for what she wanted, but her tender heart held sway—she couldn’t complicate things for the man she loved. She closed her eyes, wondering if the grief would ever lessen enough to allow the tears to fall.